


Death Be Not Proud

by Teddy_Feathers



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reapertale, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-22 09:13:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6073581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teddy_Feathers/pseuds/Teddy_Feathers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>MC would be a medium if they weren't a stressed out college student.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> How long does it take you to notice you're being stalked by the specter of death? At least one chapter.

The problem with sight is that it is only as good as your perception. There are many things you see every day that don't register because you've learned to tune them out. If it isn't immediately relevant, you don't need to see it so you simply don't, 20/20 rating on your eyes or not. There are many things you choose to ignore too. The people in the car next to you, homeless people begging on the street... So having _the sight_ doesn't necessarily mean you'll see things differently than other people, just like having perfect vision doesn't make you particularly observant.

  
And if you do start catching glimpses of strange things... Whose to say you wouldn't just turn the other way? There are things you'd just rather not see or know, right? So when one day you're sitting in the library and this guy is tapping on the table he's sharing with this older guy, you're not really paying attention to his clothes or what he looks like. You're just fed up with him banging away while you're trying to study. When you get up to confront him, you're not really looking at him so much as frowning at his disruptive hands. "Hey buddy, mind cutting that out? I've got an exam tomorrow." The hands freeze, the noise ceases, and you're already turning your mind back onto last week's lecture. "Thank you." You toss out as you leave and completely miss the empty sockets staring after you and the toothy yet perplexed grin - both of which belonging to what was very much a personification of death.

* * *

Getting someone's attention anymore is a bit difficult to say the least. We live in a world full of distractions and self made busyness. In public transportation you'd have your nose in a book or your phone, when out and about there were advertisements plastered everywhere and music playing in your ears. If you did manage to hold a conversation with someone, everyone else was automatically tuned out. Our lives are so inundated with information coming at us from all around, that the only way you could possibly process it is to shunt out anything that wasn't important to you at that moment.

  
All excuses aside you should have seen the car failing to obey the little red light as you followed the blinking arrow's direction to cross. The dark figure standing over you, as your body desperately tries telling you nothing is wrong even though it's also trying to tell you everything is, seems to agree that you really should have seen there coming. All the same he offers a sympathetic hand up and you go to take it... but then hesitate as you recognize the hand. You drop yours back to your side and laugh weakly. "Such. Disruptive. Hands." You're pretty sure you hear a laugh even as you pass out from the blood loss. When you finally wake up you're almost positive the stranger had gotten the joke.

* * *

No matter how much we feel like it at times, we're never really alone.  Our presence in life is like a stone thrown in a pond - you may not be next to the other rocks but your ripples touch and effect all the other ripples across the water.

  
Nothing really shows you that you're not alone like a near death experience. You get the usual visitors in occasions such as these, friends family and close coworkers, but there are also all the comments for weeks after the accident that tell you that the disruption in your routine threw off other peoples lives as well.  You were honestly surprised how many people would notice if at some point you died.  It'd leave a small you shaped hole in the universe and it'd take a while for the ripples your life caused to stop echoing across the pond.

  
The whole experience opened your eyes to so much you had taken for granted.  Which is when you started noticing the skeleton sitting next to your bed while you slept.

* * *

Humans are pretty skeptical. For all they usually claimed to believe in a higher power, the person existing inside of the chemical reactions and physical body processes, or even that the sun would come up tomorrow... That always seemed to bee taken with a grain of salt. Things usually had a reasonable scientific explanation, no matter what the weather man said there was always a 50% chance of him being wrong, and sometimes those chemicals in your brain misfired and you dreamed strange things while you were awake.

  
At first that's what you told yourself. You'd roll over in the night, catch sight of bone glistening in the moonlight, snuggle deeper into your covers and wait for the phantom image to go away.  And the next time you woke up, he usually was gone.

  
But it started to be a regular thing to wake up at midnight to a skeletal grin and unless your brains had been scrambled more than the scans had shown, there was someone in your room watching you sleep on a regular basis. That possibility was actually more worrisome than possible hallucinations. Action had to be taken.


	2. Chapter 2

You sat up rubbing your eyes clean of sleep,  fairly sure you wouldn't be going back to sand land anyways. Not after the cheeky Halloween prop had waved at you when he caught you staring.

  
"Do you mind?" you asked, more than a little exasperated. You were taking a full load of classes and holding down a job. You really didn't need your sleep interrupted every night.  

  
If anything his grin got wider, you weren't even going to bother asking how that worked. "nah. actually enjoying the break." His teeth didn't part when he spoke, which didn't really help the whole reality vs pain medication side effect argument. He leaned forward in his chair - it certainly wasn't yours or one you'd seen before - and stuck out his hand. " 'less you wanna be a pal and shake my hand?" You stared at the offending limb as if it were to blame for your current predicament. You really should have noticed that it belonged to a skeleton before this. When you didn't move he shrugged and leaned back, settling his hands behind his head and getting comfortable.

  
You considered your options. "I don't suppose asking nicely will get you to leave?"

  
He shrugged lazily. "hasn't worked for anyone yet, but if you want to try, go ahead and knock yourself out."

  
You had to be up in four hours to work opening shift. You were still catching up on the school work you had missed while in the hospital.  You did not have time for a mental breakdown right now. He really should have seen the pillow coming. 

* * *

Human determination is an odd thing. It is a strong force that can enable amazing events, but it's not used or even equal in everyone. Some humans have so little determination its a wonder they get out of bed in the morning. Some just have a boring non-useful amount until something drastic happens and suddenly they have enough to lift a car off of a child. But you? You were one of the rare few that had a lot of determination. You didn't do much with it, but when pushed it became pretty obvious you were able to out stubborn just about anyone.

  
Which is probably how you managed to chase death out of your room with only pillow as a weapon. "Out! Out! Out! I can't afford to go crazy right now, you can come back on my next day off!"

  
He was surprisingly adapt at dodging your blows but you still were managing to herd him out the door.  "that's, uh, not exactly how this sort of thing works."

You were so done with this argument. "Don't care. See you Sunday spectator of insanity." You slammed the door in his face.

From the other side came the muffled protest. "i'm death."

"Well then don't bother coming back until I need you then! I'm busy."

  
In retrospect you probably shouldn't have said that. 

* * *

What's the saying? 1st times an accident, 2nd times happenstance, 3rd times a conspiracy. It didn't take long to work up the ranks that week.

  
There was the bike boy who almost knocked you into moving traffic, the kids moving furniture into the dorms whose couch came sliding back down the stairs towards you,  and then that weird gust of wind that almost sent you flying off the balcony. When you looked down,  steadying yourself against the creaky railing, you could have sworn someone was standing on the ground below, arms open to catch you. But when you straightened he had gone.  That was only the first day.

  
It seemed like every time you looked up, you were about to meet your end but managed to scrape on by alive. Resolutely you went back to ignoring the world around you. Near death experiences were distracting as hell and you still had one final and one end of term project to complete.

  
Finally Sunday came, your day of rest. And with it a knock on the door. You didn't want to get up. "Who's there." You yelled.

There was a pause followed by "orange." you groaned at the wise guy and went to get the door.

"Orange who?" You grumbled swinging it open.

  
"orange you glad i remembered our date?" The black hooded figure said offering you a rapidly decaying bushel of flowers.

You decide not to take them. "Sorry I cantaloupe with you, I had my heart set on you not being real." Figments of you imagination wouldn't knock right? That'd just be silly.

  
"don't think you're fruity then?"

  
You shrug wondering if encouraging him had been a bad idea. Probably. You go to shut the door, but he stops you with his free hand. He's stronger than his short stature and big boned frame let on. "hey don't be like that, i've got all sorts of raisins for hanging around." 

You raise an eyebrow. 

"for one you're actually supposed to be dead."

  
The other eyebrow goes up to meet it. 

Obviously they just can't bare to be separated. 

Like you and death.

...

You should probably go sit down. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Death is kinda a downer. Least this one has a sense of humor.

Some people are just too damn stubborn to die. Who hasn’t heard about at least one old person who smoked, drank, and generally did everything against the general care and handling of the human body but still managed to live to the ripe old age of ninety plus years? Some claimed it was genetics or some other rational reason, but it all came back to determination. Usually these people noticed and laughed at the universe’s attempts to correct the mistake that was their existence.

You on the other hand? You’re determination had you so focused you just failed to notice until your fate had almost gotten the jump on you.

It took a little bit to process. That you were _supposed_ to be dead. Sitting on your couch across from death himself, you tried to come to terms with it but there was this nagging doubt. "I call Bullshit. If I was supposed to be dead I would be. This week proved that."

Seriously. Up until you had decided you had more important things to focus on, you couldn’t go an hour without nearly meeting your end. But close only counted in horseshoes, hand grenades, and thermonuclear war. None of which had made an attempt on your life thus far.

The skeleton scoffed. “This week? Try since _birth_. Honestly you’ve kept us on your toes with your near misses.” He waved his scythe - yes an actual scythe you’d asked - for emphasis. “And then you just blithely keep on going like death is just a minor inconvenience.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. I find you _very_ inconvenient.” Your tone was dry, but his grin just widened and he settled back in his chair.

“Honestly I’m surprised it took you this long to notice our efforts.”

“I've been busy.” In fact despite it being an official day off, you still had things to do. You wondered if you could get rid of him so you could go run those errands.

As if he could read your mind, or just your face, he winked…Somehow. Skeletons really _shouldn’t_ be able to do that. “Death waits for no one.”

Rolling your eyes in return you sigh. “And yet I can't seem to get rid of you.”

His joking expression faded, and despite the permanent grin on his face he took on a more serious tone. “Look this is a pretty grave matter. Usually one touch and you’re safely shuffled off the mortal coil. But you just _refuse_ to lie down and die.”

You squinted your eyes at him in thought. You hadn’t touched him. Almost didn’t count right? Unless…

"Have you been touching me in my sleep?!?" Your voice grew sharp and incredulous.

Death didn’t seem to understand what sort of hole he was digging himself. Pretty dismissively he responded. "What you didn't notice? You wake up, glare at me, and go back to your rest. Just not an eternal one.”

You didn’t have any pillows this time but you stood, fists clenched at your sides. "That’s it.” That was so not okay. “Get out."

The chair vanished, and he wiggled the fingers of his free hand at you. "And here I thought you liked my disruptive hands."

You took a single step forward. Could you smack some sense into death? You were just about ready to try. “OUT!"

He didn’t use the door this time. He simply disappeared.

* * *

People build walls. It's what they do. To keep people in, to lock others out. Figuratively. Literally. Death had no such concepts. The great leveler obviously thought such things were beneath him.

But if he was going to be hanging around there really needed to be some ground rules.

Explaining this to him the next time he showed up…well… Maybe you hadn’t been taking this whole ‘Death’ thing seriously before, but you sure were now.

**look coffin bait, i am the god of death. i exist everywhere and everywhen on a level of reality so vast that your brain can't comprehend. the only rules i obey are the ones set at my creation. you’re concepts of limitations don't apply to me. you, like all living things before you, shall S U C C U M B T O M Y P O W E R.**

You might be terrified, but you weren’t cowed before him. Apparently you never had. Seems like now would be a very bad time to start. “Look as much as I really hate to argue with you especially when you're being scary beyond all belief, but you're not _my_ death! You're not _my_ god! You're not _my_ ANYTHING!” Your voice was too high, but you said the words. Important words. You were determined despite your fear.

Suddenly his eyes had his normal pinpricks of dancing amusement, the gloom and shadows faded, the echoing screams of the damned quieted, and most importantly his voice stopped. Doing. That. **_Thing_**.

“but if you just let me baby… i could be your everything.” Normal voice. Teasing.

You blinked at the sudden mood swing. “Are you seriously flirting with me right now? Thought you were older than my poor mortal mind could comprehend.” You covered your confusion with snark. Your heart was still racing though.

He seemed…Well _normal_ was the best word for it. Normal as a skeleton in a black hoodie claiming to be the god of death could be at least. “what can i say? i'm a grave robber... and i’m up for blowing your mind.”

Despite yourself you laughed. Whatever. You were probably crazy. Or he was. “Package deal at the low, low price of my soul.” This was acceptable. You could handle this. But the guy seriously needed to chill, hallucination or not.

* * *

 

They say stress ages you, puts too much strain on you, and makes you old before your time. What they don't say is that after a certain point you can numb yourself to it. That your tolerance for stress increases as you handle it on a daily basis.

Or maybe you'd just finally snapped.

Either way you watched the flames with mild disinterest as your coworkers panicked around you. You knew the fire wasn't your fault, everyone had made it out safely, emergency responders were on the scene, and honestly… who hasn't wanted to watch their work place burn down at least once?

Beside you death snorted "would have been better if you'd gotten trapped inside."

This comment probably shouldn't have shocked you as much as it did.

“That was a messed up thing to say. Thought death was supposed to be a comfort?”

He didn't seem bothered by your criticism. “that's usually my bro’s job. he's always saying my graveside manner needs work.”

Death had a brother? Of course he did. As much as he talked about the ending of your life, you were slowly becoming accustomed to his presence in it. But here again he reminded you, all things must end. Depressing really. That’s what you get for hanging out with death. 

Something of your thoughts must have shown. He shot you a smile as he started walking towards the building. You could hear yelling over the fireman’s radios. “don’t be so grim lady. that’s my job.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. I've got no clue where this is going. I've got a handful of conversations planned out but no real plot ya know? Thanks for reading.

Overworking is a serious problem in the modern job market. One that the corporate overlords were only too happy to pretend they were on top of. They organized mandatory ‘fun’ days and office parties every so often, where all good little worker bees were expected to stand near one another and make nice.

Like you didn’t have better things to do.

One would think your branch of the company burning down would get you out of going, but no. They just arranged it to take place at a different location.

Despite the fact the parties weren’t in anyway fun and you weren’t getting paid for participating; a night out, however obligatory, was a nice change of pace. Especially since you could pretend that you were celebrating getting a clean bill of health from the doctor.

“well… don’t you look drop dead gorgeous.”

Yeah. You hadn’t told the doctor you were being stalked by death. If their scans said you were fine, you weren’t going to tell them otherwise.

Still straightening your hair in the mirror you let out a resigned breath. “Burn in hell.” There was no real heat in your words. You were trying to ignore the smug skeleton, mostly.

He hopped up onto the counter next to you, giving you a lazy wink. “after you.”

“Sorry I’ve got other plans for tonight.” You left the bathroom, turning out the lights behind you. Leaving death in the dark. _If only it was that easy._

Somehow he was already waiting by your things. “like dancing with death?”

Putting on your coat, you scooted around him and headed for the door. “You wish.”

“does it involve even a little death?” He called out from behind you. Huh. He sounded almost disappointed he wasn’t getting much of a rise out of you.

Smiling to yourself, you slammed the door behind you. “I wish.”

* * *

All the old stories warned you not to go off the beaten path, not to take more than what life offered you, and to always be careful what you wished for.

Too bad you were determined to do things your own way and damned be the consequences.

“you can't just keep ignoring me. i'm not going away.”

You practically jumped out of your skin when, rounding the corner, you almost plowed over him.

Putting a hand to your racing heart you practically yelled at him. “Don’t do that!”

“what haven't you heard that death is always around the corner?” His grin was unrepentant.

Shooting him your most fearsome glare you kept walking, making sure to give him wide berth. 

* * *

 

Things were going about how you expected. People ate, chatted, and you nursed your drink counting the minutes until you could go home. You’d seen and talked to the people you wanted to, and some of the people you had to, and were done. Social obligations met, you got to dress up and go out, now you wanted to go home.

The chair beside you slid back and someone planted themselves beside you. Your practiced work smile faltered when you saw who it was.

“i see you’re the life of the party.” He offered, still smiling superiorly. You wondered if he ever stopped. Sure he was a skeleton, but a pretty expressive one. It seemed weird that death would be one for smiling all the time.

Encouraging him only made him worse you reminded yourself, and turned your attention back to your mingling coworkers.

“so now you're just going to give me the cold shoulder?”

As you dodged his attempt to grab you - he really needed to keep his disruptive hands to himself - your supervisor made her way over.

“Oh! And who might this be? I don’t think we’ve been introduced!” Martha’s enthusiasm to meet death was disturbing to say the least.

He lifted his hand and wiggled his phalanges at her. “i’m sans, the date.”

Her smile widened. _Great. This’ll be all the gossips talk about for weeks._ Sometimes it seemed that hot air was the only thing holding up the roof at work.

“Well I’m _very_ glad to meet you! I didn’t know you were dating anyone dear!” Like it was any of her, or any of the people she bustled off to tell, business.

Rolling your eyes you turned to your ‘date.’ Your mind took note that he had replaced the black hoodie with a black turtle neck.

“Why can she see you?” Perhaps the more important question was that if he wasn’t your hallucination, why didn’t she care he was a skeleton?

He tipped his chair back onto its back legs. “Some people see their life pass before their eyes before they die, others their death.”

Looking between Martha and Sans – death – whatever he was calling himself you felt a bubble of guilt in your gut. You didn’t know she was dying.

An awful thought occurred to you. “Is this…is this _my_ fault?” Was he going to kill people around you indiscriminately until you capitulated and let him take you to the great beyond?

His low chuckle wasn’t exactly reassuring. “nah. I don’t go in for coaxing people into letting go of their lives. my brother does that. i just show up and knock them dead.”

“But uh…” You were hesitant to point out the obvious, but for once you were curious. “That isn’t working here.”

Death dropped his chair back to all fours. “about that. what do you have to live for anyways?”

That was a very personal question. Then again, you’d already noticed death was kind of invasive. “When you put it like that, what have I got that's worth dying for?”

Sans let out a frustrated noise. “you’re a real boneafide pain.”

Sure. You were the problem here. “You shouldn't speak ill of the dead.” Sarcasm at its finest.

So much for a nice night out.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very short. I apologize.

Everyone sees things out of the corner of their eyes. Your brain interpreting movement light and shadows wrong until it seems there are creatures lingering out of sight.  No one pays them any mind, because when you take a really good look there's nothing there.   
  
Death has a way of spurning people to make the most of life.  Maybe you weren't an exception. Without death having turned up just to point out that you should be dead, that the fact you were still moving around was a lucky accident, and to ask you why you were still pressing forward with life like it mattered - without death maybe you would have never questioned what was the purpose of your life.    
  
Not the eternal question of why you were alive, or even the happenstance of you surviving that car hit you... Just what did YOU want out of life.  What caused you to get up in the morning and press forward. Why did you fell like it mattered?  When you counted death among your friends these questions became relevant.    
  
He didn't seem to think you were friends, but that was to be expected really.

* * *

After that night you stopped seeing him.

At first it was nice,  the quiet and ability to devote all of your attention to the work in front of you. But it also felt empty. You found yourself looking up more, noticing life's efforts of removing you from the mortal coil... You noticed those around you more, found yourself looking for what was just around the corner for everyone except you it seemed.   
  
Death was missing from your life. Not like you could tell anyone you missed your not so imaginary friend... But you did keep an eye out.  
  
Because you did you saw other things you'd never noticed. Some of the people and places around you weren't always all there. There were people who followed routes that no longer existed, ignoring obstacles in their path. Places that in certain days when the light was right showed the glory of buildings that no longer existed.    
  
The world around you was full of ghosts and they were beautiful.  
  
It was terrifying at first to see things you couldn't explain, a reality around you that no one else was privy to. You wondered if these phantoms were further signs of a mental break.   
  
But no. You could tune it all out, work and function normally. But when not focusing with a single minded devotion on the tasks in front of you, you found yourself fascinated by the things you could see.    
  
A faded woman smiling softly over a park full of children, a path that led places that no longer existed... You looked up and saw evidence of death all around but nothing of the skeleton himself. 


End file.
